scenes from motherhood // seaside

Sundays spent by the seaside. Collecting rocks and pretty shells. Digging sand. Chasing gulls. Flappy wings… not a fan. The air whips through our hair, blowing cobwebs away. The winter sun is low in the sky, sparkling on the waves. Nana comes – running with wide open arms. Poppa too. Walking, picnicking on the tartan rug. Egg sandwiches. Shoo birds. Go-way. Mumma has to leave early for a rescheduled appointment. How I would much rather stay with my boys, building castles by the sea.

 

 

scenes from motherhood // park life

Crisp winter days. Fresh air and cooler winds. Afternoons spent at the park. Collecting rocks, crunching fallen leaves. Birds fly over-head, in search of food. We stop to watch them. The crackle of static when you ‘wheee!’ down the slide. Perfect pieces of bark. Bright red; the ‘nee nor’ fire truck. Watching the sun set and the moon rise higher in the sky. The promise of a warm meal and cuddles with daddy. It’s time to head home again.Through the trees. Past the river. Bye-bye to the pukekos and ducks. Up the hill, and round the corner, cars whizzing past. You hum a song I’ve not heard before. Your nose is cold when I kiss it. Park life.